


An Agent and His Supersoldier

by WinterSky101



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Dates, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Graphic Description of an Injury, Panic Attacks, Poor Coulson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1368016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSky101/pseuds/WinterSky101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson likes Steve. And not just because he's the hero he always idolized. Because Steve is nice. And polite. And just as heroic with the cameras as without them. And, of course, he's attractive. Very attractive. So all in all, Coulson figures that whoever snags Steve will be very lucky indeed. It never enters his mind that it can be him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Agent and His Supersoldier

**Author's Note:**

> This fic includes a character with PTSD (although it's never said in as many words) and includes a short description of a panic attack. Fair warning for anyone who might find that triggering.

When Coulson first sees Steve after what he's dubbed "the Loki incident," Steve is amazed and pleased to see him alive. So are all the others - Barton, Romanoff, Stark, Banner, even Thor's there - but Coulson only has eyes for his childhood hero. Fury's explaining the reason for the deception, but Coulson isn't listening to him. He already knows it was to give the team the push they needed. Plus, there were no guarantees that Coulson would survive, even though the medics had managed to restart his heart. The surgery to repair his pierced lung was risky at best, but it ended up working. The doctors have said that he's healed enough to be out of the danger, and so Fury's decided to let the cat out of the bag.

The team all have a strange mix of pissed off and happy expressions on their faces, the former being directed at Fury and the latter at Coulson, or so he hopes. The entire team, that is, but Steve. He just looks happy that Coulson is alive, with no anger at Fury poisoning the expression. A warm glow seems to fill Coulson, but he doesn't know what to do with the feeling. The last time he felt at all like this was with his girlfriend the cellist, before she moved back to Portland. He feels a little strange about the feeling he's pretty sure is love being directed at Steve, but he tells himself it's platonic only and really, it's not love, it's friendship and his continued hero-worship that he knows he has for the super-soldier, and no matter how much Agent Romanoff teases, it's not an unhealthy obsession. The rambling train of thought shows his feelings better than anything else, but he pretends it has no meaning and come on, he just wants to be friends with the man!

Fury stops talking and apparently the meeting is over and the hanging-out time has begun. Agent Romanoff is the first to him and, in an uncharacteristic display of warmth, wraps her arms around Coulson gently. She releases him a moment later and smiles at him. Her smile is lovely. It's too bad no one ever sees it except Barton and occasionally another agent. "Agent Coulson, I'm so glad to see you alive and healing."

"Thank you, Agent Romanoff," Coulson replies, and his voice is kinder now than many of the other times he's said her name. "Please, after everything we've gone through, I think you can call me Phil."

"Then you should call me Natasha," she replies, and Coulson smiles at her. Then she moves away and next in line is Barton. He looks guilty and Coulson instantly knows he's blaming himself for helping in the mission to release Loki, even though he was under the control of the god's scepter.

"I am so sorry," Barton whispers, and they hug tightly, forgetting appearances completely and just seeking comfort in being near each other.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, since I don't blame you," Coulson replies.

A flicker of a smile shows on Barton's face. He puts his hand out. "Phil."

Smiling, Coulson shakes Barton's hand. "Clint."

Next up is Thor, who gives Coulson a giant but surprisingly gentle hug. "Son of Coul!" he booms, and Coulson can't help but grin at the name. "I am glad to see you well again. We will fight many glorious battles together!"

Coulson smiles and claps a hand on Thor's back. "That we will," he replies, and he finds that he wants to fight "glorious battles" with Thor. After all, it would have to be fun to have a god on your side.

Thor moves to the side and it's Stark. He looks a little awkward. Coulson feels the same way. They were never really good friends. "You, um, you should call Pepper. She was really upset," Stark states, stumbling over his words. Coulson nods. "And the offer to fly you to Portland to visit your girlfriend still stands," Stark adds.

Coulson smiles. "Thank you, Mr. Stark," he replies with more sincerity than he thought he would ever say the words.

"Tony?" Stark asks in an almost hopeful voice.

Coulson smiles. "If you agree that my first name is Phil and not Agent," he teases back.

"Ooh, you drive a hard bargain," Tony jokes, but the smile tells Coulson the answer is yes.

Next up is Banner, looking awkward and out of place, as he often seems to in these situations. "Good to see you again, Agent Coulson," he states shyly, and Coulson really can't help but take pity on the poor man, who really looks quite like a puppy.

"Please, Phil. If everyone else can call me that, then you can too. And it's good to see you as well, Dr. Banner."

"You can call me Bruce, if you want," Banner replies, and it's asked so shyly and in such a sweet, almost self-deprecating way that Coulson can't help but accept the offer.

"Thank you, Bruce," he replies, and Bruce's face lights up. Behind him, Tony is smiling and Coulson can't help but wonder what he missed while he was out, especially once Tony puts an arm around Bruce's waist.

Next up is Steve. He gives Coulson a hug and it's all Coulson can do not to melt into it pathetically, like a small child. The strong arms around him are comforting and he doesn't want them to leave just yet. But they do and Steve pulls back, smiling.

"It's nice to see you again, Captain Rogers," Coulson says, and he's slightly proud at how his voice sounds completely normal.

Steve smiles back at him. "I can just be Steve," he suggests. And Coulson realizes he already is.

* * *

It's three o'clock in the morning and Coulson has just woken up in a cold sweat, both real and psychosomatic pain flaring up in his chest. The familiar nightmare broke into his mind again, though he's shoved it away into the lowest depths of his subconsciousness.

The room is dark and his hand scrabbles at the wall, searching for the light switch he knows must be there. When he finds it, he throws the room into light and it changes nothing. The thought of the nightmare is still there and it's not leaving any time soon. Coulson gets up and staggers for the door. There's no way he's going back to sleep after that, so he decides to let it go and see if he can find a nice movie to take his mind off of the horrors that won't stop plaguing him.

He leaves the room and is just wondering where there might be movies in the New York SHIELD headquarters he's currently staying in that when he realizes the light's on in the lounge. He goes to the door to peek in and see who it is. His first thought is Fury - because he's not sure that man  _ever_  sleeps - or maybe some random agent that was suffering from the same insomnia that he felt. But it's neither.

Inside the room, bent over a sketchpad, is Steve.

Coulson knocks gently on the door before he enters, and Steve jumps and closes the sketchpad quickly. Upon seeing Coulson, he seems to relax and a smile comes across his face. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he teases.

"Shouldn't you?" Coulson shoots back.

Steve shrugs. "I slept for seventy years. Skipping a night won't kill me." But it's obvious that Steve isn't being entirely honest, because the shadows under his eyes are a testament to many sleepless nights, not just one. Coulson doesn't press the issue and Steve looks grateful for that. He doesn't ask why Coulson is up and Coulson doesn't want to volunteer the information anyway. If he had to choose one person to tell, it would be Steve, but he'd much rather keep it to himself. Steve respects that.

"Do you draw?" Coulson asks as he gestures to the sketchbook, trying to make small talk.

Steve jumps slightly and looks at the little book as if he forgot it was even there. "Oh, yeah. Do you want to see?"

Coulson nods and Steve opens up the sketchbook. It starts out with a picture of a woman with curly hair and a smile. "Peggy," Steve supplies, and instantly Coulson recognizes the woman from a newspaper clipping about the original experiment. The page is turned and it's a young man in an army uniform. "Bucky," Steve says softly, and even though Coulson doesn't recognize the face, he knows the name: Steve's best friend from back in World War II. He died on a mission, not too long before Steve himself was frozen.

The next page is a more familiar image: the Empire State Building rising majestically from New York's smaller buildings around it. "So different than how I remember it," Steve says softly, and Coulson almost puts a hand on his knee before he thinks better of it. The next picture is a familiar portrait: Fury. The SHIELD director is half in shadow, the side with the eyepatch barely visible. Then starts a handful of images of each of the team. Coulson has a picture of his own as well, followed by a picture of one of his trading cards.

"Who showed you these?" Coulson asks, looking at the image.

Steve looks over, smiling slightly. "Fury showed us. I signed all of them. I can get them to you tomorrow."

Coulson acts grateful, but in truth, he's friends with Steve, so why does he need the trading cards?

The pictures flip past: three of Tony, one of Bruce and one of the Hulk, two of Natasha, one of Clint, and three of Thor. Then the page is turned and Coulson's blood runs cold. It's Loki and the god is doing the same little smile as he did when he killed Coulson. There's a muttered swear and the image changes to the room on the helicarrier where the cage was but the cage is gone and there's a smear of blood on the wall and this is where Coulson died. Then it's just black and that's no better because the darkness is what enveloped him last time before he woke up surrounded by SHIELD's doctors and it's the color of death. Then the blackness is gone and there are strong arms around Coulson's shaking body and why is his face so wet? Oh yes, he's crying because that face and that spot are what haunt him when the lights go out and that's the specter in his nightmares. And then he's aware of a voice. At first, it sounds silky and accented, but it's not. The voice is coarser and undeniably American. It's Steve.

Coulson instantly tries to get a hold of himself as he realizes that he just fell to pieces in front of his childhood hero. It's a bit embarrassing. But Steve doesn't seem condescending at all. He's gently holding Coulson and murmuring things in his ear. The comforting whispers tell him it's okay and Steve's got him and he's safe now, Loki won't get him again. They help him control his racing heart rate and slow his heavy, almost hysterical breathing. When he's finally under control, he looks at Steve, red flooding his cheeks.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Coulson mutters, pulling back. Steve lets him move away, but he keeps an arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break down."

"My fault," Steve replies, shaking his head. "I should have known those pictures wouldn't be good to show you. I'm sorry."

Coulson manages a shaky laugh. "They were very good pictures. Very realistic."

Steve doesn't smile back. "I'm really sorry, Phil. I'd love to make it up to you somehow." Steve's brow furrows, then his face shows he's had an epiphany. "I'll take you out to eat. We can go to a nice restaurant, when you're healed, of course."

"The doctors said that I should be able to go out in around a week, if there's no setbacks," Coulson offers.

Steve smiles, and the expression lights up his whole face. "It's a date," he states cheerily.

A shiver runs down Coulson's back at the thought, but he forces it away. "Sounds good to me." He stands, stretching slightly. "I should probably go try and sleep." Maybe the happiness of having the plan with Captain America will keep the nightmares away.

"If my pictures give you nightmares or something, you can call me," Steve offers. Coulson smiles, but he already knows he won't call for him. It's embarrassing enough to have broken down once that night in front of his childhood hero. He doesn't plan on doing it twice.

Coulson reaches the door and turns back before closing it. Steve's reopened his sketchbook and he's continuing the picture he was doing before he was interrupted. Coulson can't see it well, but he catches enough of a glimpse to know who it is.

It's him.

Feeling lighter than he has since his short death, Coulson makes his way back to his room. His sleep, for once, is dreamless.

* * *

It's been a week and SHIELD's doctors have finally - grudgingly - decided that Coulson is healed enough to be able to go out to eat with Steve. Tony gives him a wink and a nice suit that's toeing the fine line between semi-casual and formal. It's exactly his size and fits him like a glove. Steve knocks at his door with an almost-matching suit, probably another present from Tony, and a sheepish smile.

"Tony got us reservations at the View restaurant and told me he'll foot the bill, so we don't need to worry about prices," he states, his face slightly pink. "He also had a message for me to tell you. Something about you not needing the plane ride any more." Coulson knows what Tony was referencing - the offer to fly him to Portland to visit his girlfriend. But why does Tony think he doesn't need it any more?

A blush stains Coulson's cheeks as he realizes Tony thinks he's going on a date with Steve, which, no matter how much Coulson secretly hopes, isn't the case. Steve is blessedly oblivious and Coulson plans to keep him that way. He ignores Tony's message and smiles at Steve.

"So, shall we go?"

"You don't mind that Tony's paying, do you?" Steve asks before he answers. "I know I said that  _I_  would take you out to eat, but Tony offered to pay and I don't really have all that much money, so I agreed. But if you mind, we can go give the suits back and I'll take you out somewhere else."

"I don't care," Coulson replies, smiling in what he hopes is a reassuring way. "If Tony is letting us spend his money, who are we to refuse? Come on. If you want, we can order all the most expensive things."

Steve laughs. "We can order everything they offer. We can order everything they offer  _twice_. It won't make a dent in any of Tony's hundreds of bank accounts."

"Probably not," Coulson replies with a grin. Steve goes slightly pink, then offers the agent his arm. Face red, Coulson accepts the offer and the two walk out of SHIELD headquarters arm in arm, completely unaware of the fact that Tony's doubled over laughing as he watches the couple leave the compound from his window.

A car is waiting for them and they climb in. The driver is another agent and he smiles at Coulson as he gingerly slides into his seat. "I'm glad to see you've recovering, sir," he says. Coulson gives him a smile before the door closes. Then it's him and Steve in the back seat and they're alone together. This is turning out much more like a date than Coulson thought it would be, and he's not sure if he should be happy or wary. After all, his newfound crush on Steve is a closely guarded secret.

Steve's knee brushes up against Coulson's, and Coulson clenches his fist to keep from reacting to the contact. He can't react. Steve can't know. It would ruin the entire dynamic of their relationship and  _why is his body so determined to betray him?_

"Are you alright?" Steve asks, putting a hand on Coulson's knee. Coulson jerks, then hisses in a short breath as the movement pulls on his healing wound. "You're not in any pain, are you?"

Coulson looks up at Steve's worried blue eyes, and as soon as the pain had appeared, it's gone. "No, I'm fine."

Steve doesn't seem to believe him and edges a bit closer, looking concerned. Their bodies are touching. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Coulson replies, his voice a little breathless.

Now Steve definitely doesn't believe him and he looks to the driver. "Maybe we shouldn't do this today. Excuse me, but can you turn the car-"

"No!" Coulson almost yells. Both the driver and Steve look at him oddly. "No, I'm fine. We don't need to turn around. Keep going to the restaurant."

"If you're sure…"

"I'm sure. I am very sure. Let's go."

Steve keeps a worried eye on Coulson through the ride, but Coulson's determined not to show any signs of pain. He feels pain, yes, but he won't let Steve know that. If he finds out, it means they won't go out to eat together, and while it's not  _really_  a date, it's the closest they'll ever get.

They finally arrive at the restaurant and Coulson can't stop staring. He can't exactly say he's a New Yorker, born and raised, but he's lived in the city for a long time. Still, he's never been to the View before. He can't even imagine what it looks like from within the restaurant. He isn't sure that the suits he and Steve are wearing are necessary for the restaurant, but he's glad that Tony got them for the not-date anyway. Coulson wears suits regularly, but they're all on the helicarrier. He normally doesn't work from the base in New York, and since he's not on active duty there, SHIELD only got him casual clothes. Nothing he had was anywhere near nice enough to wear when going out to eat. And, from what he's seen of Steve's wardrobe, it's his Captain America suit, a few tight t-shirts, a pair or two of jeans, and his idea of a formal outfit: a pair of nice pants and a plaid button-down over a wife-beater. Nothing really suitable for a restaurant of this caliber.

"Shall we?" Steve asks, coming over to Coulson. Coulson jumps and nods, and Steve takes his arm again. The two enter the restaurant in that fashion.

The maître d' goes over to them in a way that makes it seem as if he's annoyed they've bothered him with entering the restaurant. "Do you have reservations, sir?" he asks in a tone that negates the politeness of his words.

Steve nods, seemingly unruffled by the rude behavior of the other man. "Reservations for two under the name of Rogers," he replies.

The maître d' checks his list. He sees the name and does a double take. "Ah. Yes. Your reservations were called in by Mr. Stark, and he's taken care of the costs. Where would you like to sit?" Once the maître d' realizes the amount of money involved, his voice becomes oily and his actions practically scream his willingness to do anything they could possibly want him to do.

The slight smile that appears on Steve's face shows he knew this was going to happen. "We'd like a good view of the city," he requests. "A table for two."

"Very well, sir. I'll have a waiter take you to your seats." The maître d' taps a bell and a waiter appears instantly. A whispered message tells the young man of the circumstances and Coulson can't help but grin when the boy's eyes go wide. He almost trips over himself trying to get to their menus. Coulson gives him a friendly smile as Steve moves to steady him.

"You don't need to be worried," Steve says mildly once they're out of the earshot of the maître d'. "Neither of us is used to being treated like super rich celebrities. Just act like we're normal customers."

"Y-yes, sir," the boy replies, stumbling over his words almost as much as he had stumbled over his own feet not even a minute before.

"Really," Coulson adds, smiling as much as he can with the growing pain in his chest. "You can calm down. We may be paying with Tony Stark's money, but we're not as egocentric as he is."

"Should I take offense to that?" a very familiar voice asks from behind Coulson and Steve. Coulson knows that voice, but he turns around anyway, hoping against hope.

It's not use. Tony and Bruce are indeed behind them. Tony is smirking, but Bruce looks mortified. "Oh, guys, I'm sorry if we're crashing your date-"

"It's not a date," Coulson and Steve both rush to say.

"Tony and I can leave if you want us to," Bruce finishes.

Tony gives him a look. "Um, no, we can't. I'm paying for all four of us, and you said you wanted to eat at the View."

Bruce shifts his weight from leg to leg. "I didn't realize Steve and Phil were here too," he replies in an almost guilty voice. Coulson takes pity on him instantly, though he knows better than to trust Tony's motives. He looks over to Steve, who's giving him a look that clearly asks  _should we eat with them?_  Coulson's response is a slight shrug, indicating that he doesn't mind and will go with whatever Steve wants. Coulson decides after doing it that the shrug was a bad idea. His chest  _hurts_. But he won't let it ruin their night.

"If you want to eat here, it's fine," Steve finally states.

Bruce still looks incredibly embarrassed. "No, we can leave."

Tony ignores him and begins to stroll into the restaurant, dragging Bruce behind him. The poor waiter now looks panicked. He has to serve  _Tony Stark_ , who is infamous for wanting everything to be exactly as he thinks it should be, and getting very angry when it's not. Coulson hopes that Bruce's presence will keep Tony from having a temper tantrum if something isn't exactly as he was expecting it to be. After all, Bruce is one of the calmest, most go-with-the-flow people Coulson knows, despite, or perhaps because of, his condition. Coulson hopes Bruce is rubbing off on Tony and not the other way around.

They get led to their seat by the waiter, who still looks terrified, and Steve pulls Coulson's chair out for him, like any man from the nineteen-forties would do for his date. Not that it's a date, of course, but still. Tony looks like he's about to comment, and Coulson thanks God or whatever's up there when Bruce puts a hand on Tony's arm and shakes his head firmly. Tony looks as if his fun were ruined. Steve doesn't notice any of this, to Coulson's relief. He doesn't want their dinner together to start off with that. It seems like a bad note to begin on, and Steve will be self-conscious as it is.

Absentmindedly, Coulson puts a hand to his chest, which hurts a lot. It hasn't hurt that much in about a week, and he wonders if he might have reopened his wound when he was in the car, but it's not going to ruin the night. Coulson won't let it.

He doesn't think anyone notices his movement, but he's wrong. "Are you alright?" Bruce asks him softly. It would be him who notices. He's trained himself to be aware of his surroundings. A fleeting thought makes the comment that Bruce would probably make a very good secret agent.

"I'm fine," Coulson replies. "It's nothing." Neither Tony nor Steve notice the short exchange, which is as Coulson wants it. They don't need to know that Coulson is in pain. Especially not Steve. Actually, it's probably good that Bruce is the one to know. He has some medical training, even if his title of doctor is merely because of physics. If something serious does happen, not that Coulson thinks it will, Bruce would probably be the most helpful.

Coulson's wrong in thinking nothing will happen. The waiter hasn't even returned to take their orders before the pain gets to be too much and a slight trace of blood starts to seep through his shirt. Coulson slips out of his chair, silently and without fuss, and slumps on the ground.

* * *

_"Phil!"_

_"Holy shit! He's bleeding!"_

_"Someone get me a towel or something I can use to put pressure on the wound."_

_"Here!"_

_"What should I do?"_

_"Call Fury. Phil needs to be taken back to base. Tell him what's going on and he'll send someone to pick him up."_

_"Is he going to be okay?"_

_"He'll be fine. Now call Fury!"_

_"I'm on it."_

* * *

Coulson wakes up to beeping heartbeat monitors and stiff hospital sheets and the feeling of someone holding his hand. He quickly disregards the first two in favor of opening his eyes and figuring out who's at his bedside. It's Steve.

"Oh, thank God," Steve gasps when he sees Coulson awake. "You just passed out at the restaurant and Bruce did what he could but there was blood everywhere and I thought…" Steve's voice trails off. "How do you feel?"

"I've felt worse," Coulson replies honestly. It doesn't seem to reassure Steve much.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he whispers.

Coulson squeezes his hand slightly. "You didn't."

"I think I'm in love with you," Steve tells Coulson, and it all comes out in a rush that's almost too fast for Coulson to comprehend.

Almost.

"You think you're in love with me?" Coulson parrots dumbly.

Steve's face is bright red. "I know, that's just made everything awkward, hasn't it? I'm sorry. I wasn't going to say anything, but then this happened and I realized that I might never have the opportunity and-"

"I think I'm in love with you too," Coulson interrupts.

Steve stops speaking suddenly. "Oh."

"Yeah." There's an awkward silence for a minute.

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. I'm pretty sure."

"Um…" A shy smile lights up Steve's face. "Can I kiss you, then?"

"Yes," Coulson breathes, and Steve presses an entirely chaste and entirely wonderful kiss to Coulson's lips.

"What about what other people will say?" Coulson gasps as they pull apart. "You look so much younger than I do, and people will talk-"

"Let them," Steve replies, and he leans in for another kiss and every other thought has immediately fled Coulson's mind.

Steve's right. If people want to talk, let them. He's happy, Steve's happy, and that's good enough for them.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr is [here](http://winterskywrites.tumblr.com/), if you're interested.


End file.
